


Fall in the Light

by SMANGST



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artistic Liberties to fill in gaps in canon, Breaching the veil, Canonical Character Death, Drug Use, M/M, No one in this family knows how feelings work, Pre-Series, Pseudo-Incest, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Time Travel, apocalyptic setting, no beta - we die like men, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMANGST/pseuds/SMANGST
Summary: Five is stuck in the apocalyptic world of the future.Klaus is left to deal with the fallout alone at the Academy.Thinking they’d have more time, neither ever got the chance to explore their relationship, and now they may never see each other again.
Relationships: Number Five + Delores, Number Five | The Boy/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	Fall in the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MischiefWriter9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefWriter9/gifts).



> This is a work in progress and it’s already changed several times from taking form in my brain to the outline I wrote down to actually writing, and that was just for the first chapter. 
> 
> Because of this, the tags and/or warnings may change. Thanks for understanding!
> 
> Originally written for a friend’s birthday, but so far only the first chapter has been delivered.

For Five Hargreeves, it had been a rough couple of weeks; no one would argue otherwise. It had taken a few days for the realization to fully sink in that he was alone, that something terrible had happened, that he was stuck here unless he could... well, that was the big question, wasn’t it? Unless he could what? Blink back home, before this mess, back to his pieced together hodgepodge of a family... but that wasn’t so simple.

He’d tried countless times, tried so hard he burst the blood vessels in his eyes and damn near given himself a nervous breakdown. Likely had, he mused, looking at the half mannequin in the wagon he’d found in the blighted wasteland that was now the world. But Delores—he’d named her, of course, and chosen an alternate spelling in hopes of not fully acknowledging the etymology of the name and its reflection on his psyche— was a balm to him. A sounding board, a companion, someone to talk to so he didn’t go fully insane. Only mostly. He recognized she was an extension of his self, in a way, or maybe even a sort of maternal figure to help him cope on the worse days. “Freud could write a book entirely on us, I imagine,” he said aloud, glancing at her over his shoulder. Her enigmatic smile never got old to him, and he wondered sometimes why she always seemed to have the answers, always seemed so content. Maybe one day she’d tell him her secret.

But today was not the day for that conversation. Today was a scavenging day, a reconnoitering day. He needed somewhere to stay for awhile; all his latest nights had been spent in less than optimal conditions. The goal for today was that he’d find somewhere to set up a proper camp for them, somewhere safe... well, safety these days was relative. At least he didn’t have to worry about predators; everything big enough to eat him had been killed off in... whatever had happened that killed all the people, too. But the elements were unforgiving. He’d woken up many times coughing from the dust and the wind. Sleep was hard enough already, and to be honest he was getting worn down. He needed to rest for a few days. He could admit that, even if Delores believed he was too stubborn to say so. He’d prove her wrong.

It wasn’t that day, or the next, but his search finally proved fruitful when he found what appeared to be a bunker or a panic room that had had part of its ceiling and the majority of one wall crumble away. He investigated cautiously, finding a modest supply of non-perishable food, several cases of bottled water, and basic hygiene and first aid supplies. This would do. This would be their home for awhile.

He knew the general area. He could explore fairly easily and find his way back before nightfall. He’d take Delores along too, of course. Give her the tour. He’d been by the Academy, or what was left of it, many times already, though he wasn’t certain what exactly he was searching for... comfort perhaps? (Foreign to think about, really.) He hadn’t found it. And yet he’d gone back, four, five times. It was home once, after all. Even obliterated it called to him, the specter of his former life haunting him already, weighing heavy on him. He’d had to get away. And thus he’d happened upon this new place for them to camp, in a familiar area of town.

They’d stopped robberies at the bank that once stood across the street. Had ice cream in celebration, a block from here. It was comforting in a way that home wasn’t; familiar, without being... haunting. The theater was nearby too, and while he’d never been to a proper show he’d enjoyed seeing people heading inside, all dressed up and full of excitement. The idea felt foreign to him, but it was comforting nonetheless. Of course the once-impressive building, like most of the others around here, was currently in ruins. It made him ache inside, in his chest. The feeling was becoming far too familiar these days.

Tomorrow, Five thought, he would go visit the theater properly. But first he needed to eat and rest. He feasted on his newfound bounty, gave himself a stomachache, and fell asleep in his new home for... however long it could sustain him. It was the first time he’d slept through the night since he’d arrived in this wasteland, but sometimes one’s body just has enough, and he’d reached his limit.

With morning came breakfast, a luxury he had been taking for granted during his time at the Academy. No more. He would eat whenever he could, and whatever he could. Once he’d eaten, he put Delores into the wagon to go explore the rubble of the theater. He wasn’t prepared for what he would find there.

He was chatting with Delores, showing her around, when what looked like a hand caught his attention. Stopping the wagon, he ran over to get a better look. It was a hand, yes, gloved and holding... a bloody eyeball? His heart was pounding; so far he hadn’t found evidence of other people, not even bodies. Taking the eyeball his mind went in a million directions at once, whose was it, why was this other person holding it, what happened here, who were they? Pocketing the eyeball he took a closer look in the wreckage and rubble around him, and what he found made him sick. At first he was uncertain, after all these bodies were adults; but closer investigation revealed a red-handled umbrella tattoo on each of them, just where his was. Luther. Allison. Diego... Klaus. Each discovery was a sharp pang to him but the last felt like ice water being driven through his chest and into his veins. Klaus.

He and Klaus had always been close. And Ben, who was nowhere to be found... more questions, fewer answers. He allowed himself a little time with each of them, wished he had a better grasp of his words, his feelings, but then the dead couldn’t hear them anyway could they? And wished he could give them all proper burials but finding a proper shovel was next to impossible. Instead he gathered their bodies together, aligning them parallel to each other and God, when had Luther gotten so huge? Scraping together the dirt and dust he managed to cover them all, and marked each mound with a spike of metal. It was the best he could do with what he had at the time. Delores was helpfully silent during this; she knew it was hard for him. She understood so much even though they hadn’t known each other for long, and she wasn’t going to make things worse.

The sun had gone down by now and Five was exhausted, worn down emotionally and physically from the shock and the discovery. He needed her support right now, and she always tried to be just what he needed. Five gathered a newspaper from a still-standing box nearby and shoved it under his arm to read later, where it was safer. He shivered as he returned to the wagon, turning to look back over his shoulder at the the row of burial mounds, and wiping the smudgy mix of ash and tears from his face as he silently pulled the wagon back to their temporary home. He needed answers, he needed to think. But most of all right now he needed to rest and let himself feel, let the loss weigh on him and be a catalyst for him. The newspaper said April 1st, 2019. He wondered what the date was today, but at least he had an idea of when it all happened. He would prevent this all somehow. He’d save his family from that fate.

~*~

Klaus was up later than he was supposed to be, but that wasn’t unusual. None of them were sticklers for following Father’s stupid rules except for Luther, and even he had moments when he’d toe the line. But Klaus suspected none of them would sleep well tonight, not after what happened earlier. The house was more quiet than he’d ever remembered it being, it seemed like even the spirits were giving him a wide berth for the moment. Maybe they sensed the gravity, the heaviness surrounding the house too, and wanted no part in it.

Five had left. It was still sinking in for him, what that meant, and he was sorting through his feelings as best he could, but then feeling things was always frowned upon in this house, and none of them had really learned the best way to cope with... well, anything. He was feeling everything at once, and it could be overwhelming, but at least things were blessedly quiet. He imagined all his siblings were doing their best to make sense of it all too. Part of him wanted to go check on Ben, on Vanya, but another part of him didn’t want to have to share the loss at the moment. He and Five had been close, and perhaps it was selfish but he didn’t need others seeing how he was being affected. Not yet. Not before he could absorb its magnitude.

That alone was easier said than done. Five had gotten out, he was free, he achieved what they all wanted but not what they all had the courage to say out loud. Klaus wasn’t sure where Five was, but he hoped he was safe and happy and doing whatever he pleased, breathing in his newfound freedom and making the most of it. He envied that freedom, envied Five and resented him for leaving him here and longed for him to come blinking into his room after lights out, take his hand and... maybe they could’ve escaped together? It was a pipe dream, he knew. But it was a thought that lingered in the back of his mind nonetheless.

He’d come back, Klaus told himself. Once he figured out how to make it, how to get by, Five would come back for him. They were a team, always had been. Five had always been there for him after training sessions, always known how to calm him down. He wouldn’t just abandon him now; he was headstrong and impulsive but he wasn’t that selfish, was he?

It would take a couple of weeks before he voiced it aloud to any of the others, before he let himself lose hope that their brother was coming back. But after having to calm himself post-training and Ben’s well-intentioned attempts at offering solace had rung hollow— it wasn’t the same with Ben, he tried, bless him, but he wasn’t Five— he’d resorted to smoking weed before bed. He couldn’t sleep otherwise. And the house had lost the quiet reverence that first night held; they were all adapting, they were accepting that Five wasn’t coming back. Klaus hoped to never give up entirely, even though something inside him felt hollow and cold these days. But when he saw Vanya making a fluffernutter sandwich a month later and leaving it at Five’s door he couldn’t help himself. “Five is gone. He’s not coming back.”

The words sounded like a death knell in the still silence of the house, and Vanya scurried away from him like a frightened mouse, back to her room. Klaus watched her go, lighting up the joint he had just rolled and taking a slow drag. His voice had sounded hollow, he mused to himself. Fitting. He wasn’t sure he felt whole anymore himself, or if he’d ever feel warm again. The house had a way of doing that to a person. It had never felt like home, but even less so now, less welcoming and warm than it had ever been. Maybe Five had been home.

He snorted at the thought, his eyes lingering on the doorway to Five’s room longer than he would’ve cared to admit. It stung to be left behind, but he wondered if given the chance to get away, he would’ve done the same. Settling into bed and smoking his joint, he reveled in the slow, pleasant haze overtaking his mind. For now this would be his own form of escape. At least until Five came back for him. He couldn’t give up on that sliver of hope. Not if he wanted to feel warm again.


End file.
